


Incongruous

by orphan_account



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, But with a.. hopeful ending?, M/M, Mainly hinted, Russingon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7863847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros shortly after awakening from his time in Thangorodrim, reflecting on the irony of his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incongruous

Born with the red tresses of his mother and the silver-blue irises of his father, there were none who thought to call the firstborn son of Fëanáro anything other than beautiful. So great in grace and elegance were his features that his mother, Nerdanel, had honored them in his amilessë. Amongst the Eldar, there were those who thought him better fit to Arafinwë and Eärwen, for despite the color of his hair, his beauty rivaled that of Findaráto and Artanis.

But a son of Fëanáro he was and for it, he was robbed of his beauty. Strange, how little he had cared when he had it, but having lost it, shame and anger filled Maitimo’s heart.

There was no beauty in tears, but alas, there was no beauty left in him, so Maitimo did not fight the water that trickled down his marred cheeks. No longer did he recognize his own body, for the marks Sauron had left upon it were deep and hideous, leaving terrible white stigmas behind as they slowly healed. The worst of the disfigurement was upon the left side of his face, where fire had twisted his skin and clouded his eye. No longer was the silver-blue of Finwë reflected there —only a milky white that saw nothing.

“The well-shaped one,” he whispered into the empty room, one arm covering his eyes so that he need not see the world. The attendants had long since left the elven lord to his misery. “Ammë…”

Did Nerdanel know of her cruelty? First and foremost in Maitimo’s mind was the death of Umbarato, the fated, who had died in flame and smoke. Were each of her children to suffer under their names? Would Atarinkë die as their father had? Was Tyelkormo to fall prey to his own temper?

“Maedhros?”

The name jolted Maitmo from his thoughts and, as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light of morning, no longer hindered by his own handless arm, there stood Findekáno. His face was struck with worry, an expression which seemed to have cemented itself there.

 _Ah_ , he thought to himself, a cruel smile drawing upon his lips. _That’s right. I am… No longer Maitimo._ The name Maitimo was gone, along with the body it had been bestowed upon. Nor was it truly Findekáno who stood before him, but Fingon, son of Fingolfin.

“H-hurts.”

At the single utterance, Fingon came to Maedhros’s bedside, pressing a hand to Maedhros’s fevered skin. His eyes flickered ever so slightly to the scars upon Maedhros’s face. So different was the wrecked body laying in sweat and blood stained sheets than the one Fingon had once embraced under the soft, silver-gold light of the Valinor.

“I am sorry,” Fingon whispered. “I should have…”

“Killed me,” Maedhros finished, his voice weak with fatigue. “I’m…”

“You’re alive.” There was a startling strength to Fingon’s voice, firm and unwavering despite the crestfallen look upon his face. “That is all that matters.”

Maedhros looked away, unable to stand the love in Fingon’s eyes. “I am hideous.”

“You are beautiful.” Maedhros did not believe the words, but with the soft kiss upon his brow, he was provided some comfort. Maitimo died in the ashes of Thangorodrim, but Maedhros would live on.

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written for this fandom before, but reaaaally like the style which it allows for.


End file.
